Usted Perro Afortunado
by snipershezz
Summary: They had waited a long time to be together, everything wanted to slow them down, including the damned elevator.


**A/N: I warn you now this is nothing but pure smut! This piece was written for the fallout kink meme. Please don't read if you are offended by that.**

 _ **The original prompt was as follows: It's 22 floors of fun between the casino floor and the presidential suite – the just the right amount of time for fooling around, don't you think?**_

 **Also I apologize if my Spanish is terrible, I'm self taught :)**

* * *

When they dropped in front of the gates to the Strip, Mickey recovered quickly.

Dean, however, wasn't so lucky.

She resisted the urge to chuckle as he bent over his knees, gasping.

"That's awful! How can you just stand there?"

She shrugged, "Fast travel is a pain in the ass, but it gets you where you need to go."

He managed to stand up, still panting slightly, "It feels like my insides were just rearranged."

She smirked, "Hey, not every RobCo invention was perfect, be thankful you don't have to do it 20 times a day."

He smirked at her slyly, "Well, yeah," he replied voice dropping to a purr, "I could think of better things I could be doing."

Mickey shivered. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him towards the gates of her home, "Well come on then, you can show me."

As they approached a Securitron rolled into their path, "Please submit to a credit check."

"A what?" Dean sighed indignantly.

Mickey chuckled, "It's ok Roger, he's with me."

The robot was silent for a few seconds; she guessed it was communicating with Yes Man.

"Welcome back Mickey. Please enjoy your stay." It rolled out of the way.

"Thanks Roger." The gates opened and Mickey smiled. It was good to be back. "Come on." She dragged Dean along and up the stairs of the Lucky 38. "Welcome to my castle." She joked.

Dean looked around, clearly impressed, "The Lucky 38…a beacon of lavish lifestyle, even in my day."

She curled a finger into his bowtie, looking up at him through thick dark lashes, "Want the grand tour?"

He made a pleased sound, leaning down to nip her ear, "I was hoping to start with your room."

She grinned, "Sounds good to me." She pulled away leading him over to the elevator.

"Howdy Partner!"

Mickey rolled her eyes, wishing for once she could get from A to B without interruptions.

Dean sighed loudly behind her.

"Hi Victor, Presidential Suite please."

"Certainly, see you later Mickey!"

"Bye Victor." They boarded the elevator; the doors hadn't even fully closed before Dean pushed her against the wall. "Dean!" She squawked as he attacked her throat with lips and teeth.

"I've waited too long Michelle; a man can only take so much." His voice dropped an octave making her squirm.

She grabbed his face pulling him up for a kiss as her fingers attacked his bowtie. His tongue curled expertly around hers and she gasped. Michelle pushed closer to him ripping at his buttons with her nails. He pushed her hair back from her shoulders attacking her neck with his mouth. Dean chuckled against her throat as she moaned, his fingers played with the buttons of her shirt, undoing them before pushing it back and mouthing at her breasts through her bra.

"Oh God Dean!" In an impressive display of strength he picked her up and pushed her against the doors. She wrapped her legs around his hips, hands fisting in the back of his jacket.

"So responsive my dear, I can't wait to fuck you on every surface." She gasped, throwing her head back against the metal surface. He scrutinized her behind those dark glasses of his. "You – you like it when I talk don't you?" She nodded seeing her own flushed face reflecting back at her. He chuckled, "Well, well, well, luckily for you I'm quite apt at…" he pitched his voice to a low growl sucking her earlobe, "using my mouth. For both words and other things." He curled his tongue around the shell of her ear. His voice was doing things to her insides she'd never experienced before.

"Fuck!"

He smirked devilishly, "Oh yes, we're going to _fuck_ and much more. When I'm through with you, you'll remember little but my name."

"Oh God!"

The doors of the elevator chose that moment to open, sending them both crashing to the floor.

"Ow."

Dean chuckled crawling up her body, smirking as he propped himself over her, "Well I like to make an entrance but not quite like that." He leaned in to kiss her as footsteps sounded from the other room.

"Qué demonios? Mierda jefe estás tratando de dar un anciano un ataque al corazón? Mierda! Quién es éste? Oh! bueno esto es incómodo."

Michelle went several shades of red, "Hi Raul."

"Hola Jefe. Debería ir, verdad? Me refiero a ustedes dos son, obviamente, ummm ocupado."

"Raul? Switch languages. All I got from that was the word shit and the word hi."

Raul rubbed his neck, "Sorry Boss, spent the last month muttering to myself, an old man forgets. Where the hell you been?"

Dean sighed for the third time; picking himself up and giving her a hand.

She wrapped her shirt around herself, blushing brightly, "Ummm…Raul you think we can have this conversation, you know, like…any time but now?"

Raul looked between the two, taking in the way Dean put his arm possessively around Mickey's shoulders. He smirked, "Right, yeah, well me and Rex were going to go visit the King anyway, so uh…" He whistled and Rex came bounding in from the guest room.

"Yes, why don't you disappear?" Dean sniffed, uninterested. "Or don't, but I wouldn't recommend that."

Raul's eyes narrowed, "Who's the pendejos, amigo?"

Michelle glared up at Dean, "Raul, this is Dean. Dean, this is Raul." She looked to Raul. "My apologies for him, he appears to have lost his manners when he was imprisoned at the Madre."

Raul hmmmed, eyeing him up.

"Something to say?" Dean asked in that honeyed tone he used when he felt threatened.

"This woman is the best thing to happen to the Mojave. You hurt her and you're going to make a lot of enemies." His blue eyes flashed threateningly. Michelle was surprised; she'd never heard such a menacing tone from her long time friend. She could see the vaquero in Raul and she smirked.

Dean stiffened, hugging her closer, "Is that so?" His voice laced with contempt.

Michelle rolled her eyes; this was not how she envisioned her evening going.

"Alright, you two can have a fucking pissing contest later and I'll be in the front row with popcorn. I don't know what that is but I saw it in a movie at the last showing at the Tops and it looked good." Both men opened their mouths to explain the joy of the snack that was popcorn and she scowled, "I don't need an explanation now, damnit!" She pointed at Raul, "You elevator. Dean! Bedroom."

They both stared at her in disbelief.

"Did I stutter? Git!" Dean smirked like a hunter who bagged a deathclaw, before following her instructions. Raul's eyes followed him, a scowl plastered on his face. "Raul, please, he's just…well he's just Dean."

"He's a pendejos."

She rolled her eyes, "That's just the way he is."

"You gunna be ok chica?"

She smiled at his brotherly protectiveness, "I'm big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself old man."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Yeah of course Boss. I mean after all you've only been shot in the head, killed the most influential man in New Vegas and pissed off countless amounts of NCR and Legion soldiers. I'm sure you'll be fine. Really." The sentence was drenched in sarcasm.

She pushed him into the elevator, "Go. I'll see you later."

Raul kissed the top of her head, ignoring the growl that could make a deathclaw wet itself emanating from the bedroom.

"It's good to have you back Boss."

She beamed, as the elevator doors slid shut, hiding Raul's crooked smirk from her view. She turned to see Dean leaning against the doorframe.

"Don't think you're off the hook mister." She exclaimed poking him in the chest. "Just what in the hell was that?"

He met her gaze with an air of calm, "Nobody threatens me, certainly not a washed up old mechanic."

She frowned, "That 'washed up old mechanic' is my brother and my best friend; he's also the best damn gun slinger in the Mojave. You don't disrespect my people Domino and certainly not in my own damned casino!"

He looked her up and down, "My, my, you do have some fire in you." A sly smirk, "I admire that in a woman."

"You'll be admiring the wrong side of my boot in a minute." Mickey growled viciously, baring her teeth.

He held up his hands, struggling not to smirk at the strangely adorable display, "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I have the utmost respect for your…people and your home."

Mickey eyed him critically, slightly annoyed with herself at the immediate deflation of her anger. Dean had that effect on her.

"Good." She took in his form, he looked completely calm despite his disheveled appearance; she noted with a sultry smirk that his pants looked particularly uncomfortable at this angle. "You really do _admire_ some fight in a woman." She commented.

The grin that split his face would put the devil himself to shame. "I distinctly remember something about a grand tour, Partner."

Michelle examined her fingernails, "Hmpf, don't know if I feel like it now." She said in a put upon bored tone.

He grabbed her shoulders pushing her against the doorframe. Invading her personal space, he pressed himself against her. "Let me remind you." He growled.

Mickey repressed a shiver at his tone; instead she made a displeased face, turning her head, "No, no, I think I feel a headache coming on." She struggled not to giggle as she felt rather than heard the growl that vibrated through his chest; the feeling sent her insides to mush.

"Thank God you're a better shot than you are an actress or we'd all be dead." He pulled the shirt from her shoulders throwing it carelessly to the side.

Michelle pushed off his jacket, his shirt going with it, leaving him in a surprisingly clean undershirt. She bent forwards to suck at the remaining skin on his neck, a pleased almost purr rumbled through him.

"Just so you know, Partner," his breathing hitched as she found a particularly sensitive spot near his collarbone. "I don't play well with others." She pushed him backwards into her bedroom.

"Really?" Mickey replied sarcastically as she toed off her boots. "I never would've guessed, you know, with your shining personality."

He copied her motions, "Your…friend there was entirely too…touchy for my liking."

She stalked towards him, "Really?" Her heart leapt into her throat as he took off his glasses, throwing them onto her coffee table. She stopped inches from him gazing up into eyes as blue as the oceans she'd read about.

"I don't share."

She was silent, just staring, trying to memorize all the colours that swirled around in his eyes.

"Good," she replied, leaning in to kiss him, "neither do I."

Their lips met and he gripped her roughly pulling her flush with his own heated body. Dean backed her up until her knees hit the side of her bed; she fell backwards smirking. He pulled his shirt over his head and she was greeted with a pleasantly toned chest. Her eyes roamed over his body greedily taking in the patched of skin and exposed muscle. Dean's body language radiated confidence but with his glasses off she could see the hints of self-doubt in his oceanic gaze.

 _Well we can't have that._

She pulled him towards her by the belt of his pants, "You're gorgeous." She muttered into his ear.

He chuckled deep in his chest, "Flattery will get you everywhere, Michelle."

The way he said her name struck a chord deep in her flesh causing her body to sing with unabashed arousal.

"Fuck me Dean." She replied, running her hands down each bump in his spine. She could feel the exposed bones through the remains of his skin and muscle. The very idea of it fascinated her and she filed it away for later.

"My dear, you say the sweetest things."

She looked him in the eyes and kissed him passionately. Michelle felt Dean reach for her pants, pulling at the buckles with his roughened fingers. He fumbled; she opened her eyes during the kiss to see him frowning intensely. Mickey broke away laughing.

"Every bloody thing is trying to slow us down." He grumbled.

She took his shaking hands in hers and squeezed them gently, "Here," she worked the buckles of her belts quickly and efficiently, shimming out of the weather worn leathers, underwear going with it. She looked up to see the gleam of appreciation in his eyes; that look was addictive and she felt her entire body flush in response. Michelle mirrored the action with his pants letting out a low whistle when his engorged member was freed from the confines of his tuxedo slacks.

"Like what you see, Partner?" Mischief dancing in those clear blue orbs.

She smirked cheekily shrugging, "Sure, depends on how you use it."

Dean growled, "Really?" He pushed her back roughly, grasping both hands in one of his. "Careful what you wish for Michelle." He slammed into her and she cried out, arching her back off the bed. Dean spluttered feeling her silken walls clenched around him. "God! You're so – tight – fuck…"

Mickey wriggled her hips, placing kisses and nips across his collarbone, "Don't hold back," she moaned as he thrust shallowly into her heat.

"I don't think – I – could – if I – bloody hell – tried…" He growled into her ear, making her shiver.

Michelle clawed at Dean's back as he set a brutal pace; he gasped feeling her nails raking across skin and muscle.

 _Oh God. Too long – it's been too long…_ He thought squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his worn teeth.

Michelle watched in fascination as the muscles in the singer's neck corded. Dean leaned forwards muttering a string of dirty things in her ear. She gasped feeling the threads of an orgasm knotting together in the pit of her stomach. She reached down between them roughly thumbing her clit.

"Jesus, Dean don't stop!" She felt herself tighten and she moaned as her orgasm hit her like an explosion from a grenade. Michelle saw stars as her hearing faded in and out.

Dean groaned as he felt her walls constrict around him. He let out a string of curses in every language he knew, as he spilled himself inside her. He came back down from high to see her grinning up at him.

"That was fan-fucking-tastic."

He chuckled; dropping to the side and gathering her close. He reached to the bottom of the bed pulling the covers over them, settling beside her Dean noted her smirk, "What?"

"What happened to fucking on every surface Mr. Domino?"

He ran his fingers through her long hair, "We have all the time in the world now we are no longer ruled by an insane man." He tapped his throat, she rubbed her own absentmindedly.

"Yeah," she grinned widely, "I guess we do…"

* * *

The elevator doors opened silently and Raul steeped into the Presidential Suite. He sighed looking around at the clothes shed in a fit of passion all over the foyer leading to Mickey's room. Picking them up, he placed them all neatly on the couch in the corner. Quietly stepping up to the bed he saw the couple tangled in each other's arms.

Mickey has a peaceful smirk on her face. He smiled pulling the covers higher over them. "Sleep well Boss, I'm glad you found someone as loco as you." He looked at Dean sleeping beside her. "Cuida de ella, perro de la suerte." He muttered before walking out.

Just as he passed through the threshold into the foyer to head to his own bed he heard Dean speak.

"Hasta mi último aliento anciano."

Raul chuckled, "Usted perro afortunado."

* * *

 _ **Translations**_

 _Qué demonios? Mierda jefe estás tratando de dar un anciano un ataque al corazón? Mierda! Quién es éste? Oh! bueno esto es incómodo._

What the hell? Shit Boss are you trying to give an old man a heart attack? Shit! Who's this? Oh! Well this is uncomfortable.

 _Hola Jefe. Debería ir, verdad? Me refiero a ustedes dos son, obviamente, ummm ocupado._

Hi Boss. I should go, right? I mean you two are obviously ummm busy.

 _Cuida de ella, perro de la suerte._ Take care of her, lucky dog.

 _Hasta mi último aliento anciano._

Until my last breath old man.

 _Usted perro afortunado._

You lucky dog.


End file.
